


Monsters and Men (Rewrite)

by Anonymous



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Content, Javert's Confused Boner, M/M, Middle Aged Virgins, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1412236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Javert is a police inspector by day and a Surete-trained monster hunter by night in M.-sur-M.  The mayor hides a dark secret that threatens both men and the entire town.  Contains mild horror/scifi violence, implied sex, and explicit sexual content.  No non-con, but one scene could be considered mildly dub-con.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Monster Within

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaleran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaleran/gifts).



 

  _The tall man stood on a barren plain. His surroundings were desolate underneath a starless sky with a moon barely visible under pendulous storm clouds. He shouted to the emptiness and his voice echoed in the sepulchral darkness._

_Suddenly, a figure rose from the dry, cracked earth in front of him; it was coated in a thick mud that obscured its features. “_

_What are you?” the man asked in a shaking voice._

_The mud began to slough, falling from the figure’s face and body in thick clumps._

_“_ _I am you.”_

_The figure was his identical down to the smallest detail save one-- the man’s warm hazel eyes were two dark orbs without iris or pupil, bottomless in their blackness. The man drew back from the figure trying to escape it whether it were demon, shade, or Gollum. The entity was too fast and grasped his shoulder, fingernails piercing his skin and searing the flesh._

_“No!”_

_“_ _Yes. We are one. We are soulless. We are damned. And we will destroy everything we try to save.”_

_The man brushed a sudden droplet off his lined face and glanced down at his fingers which were coated in blood. More drops began to fall, saturating his clothes and staining everything red with blood. He fell to his knees as the figure laughed._

 

Madeleine awoke from the nightmare drenched in sweat, bedclothes twisted about his ankles. While he had no biological need for sleep and could stay awake for days without tiring, he continued to sleep to avoid arousing the suspicion of his concierge and to maintain his connection to humanity. He was born a human in Faverolles. He was reborn as a vampire in the Bagne.

Dark memories assaulted him for a moment and he seemed to feel the pain of being turned anew. He had not even known monsters existed outside of his mother's stories, until the night he awoke to find his cellmate lying upon him, those startling golden eyes flashing down at him just before the fangs pierced his throat. He cried out and pressed his large hands to his head.

Madeleine went to the washbasin and splashed cold water on his face. Spasms wracked his lean, muscular frame and his brow furrowed. He studied his face still handsome though lined from sorrow and reflected that he would never look any older than he did now. He forced himself to focus on the present: his body was growing weak. Intense, consuming hunger filled him. The blood in his veins seemed scalding hot and his heart was racing. He needed to feed quickly. It had been too long and he would need more than a rabbit to sustain him. He sighed in relief when he glanced at the clock: it was still early morning and the town was sleeping. He dressed in his black hunting clothes, and knelt to pray. He prayed before every hunt—for game to be available, for the discipline not to harm a human, and for his tainted soul.

Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he whispered, “Please forgive me for what it is I am about to do. God grant me the strength to rise above this monster.”

As the mayor of the small town, he had to hunt with extreme discretion, so he never went out unless he wore a disguise. He kept his own flock of sheep and cattle in the fields on the outskirts of town and was careful to feed only when he was desperate and under cover of night to avoid arousing suspicion. A local shepherd was paid to manage the herd and occasionally reported to Madeleine that one of the flock was looking weak, which signaled Madeleine to avoid feeding on that animal again. When his people went hungry, he would often give a cow or a sheep to a poor family since his herds were abundant. The mayor was already discussed in the parlors and drawing rooms for his unknown origins, goodness, and reserved, gentle nature. It was bad enough that he was a convict. If any of them suspected he was a vampire…

He did not dwell on those thoughts. Although he had been taught how to feed on humans, at Toulon, his chains and the sting of the lash prevented him from feeding but could not suppress the base desire. Fortunately, he was released soon after he was turned,and until then, he was able to survive on the blood of the rats that entered his cell. When he was first paroled, angry and broken, he had nearly fed on an innocent. When the kindly Bishop of Digne offered him shelter and food; his anger and hunger had been so great that he crept into the man’s room in the dead of night, and for a bleak and abysmal moment, he considered feeding. Instead, he stole the man’s silver. He was caught; and rather than fight and reveal what he was, he allowed himself to be captured. The Bishop gave him the stolen silver, two silver candlesticks, and his blessing.

Now, he led a lonely and austere but noble existence and brought peace and prosperity to the town. He was a symbol of charity and goodness, well-respected and honored. He bestowed kind words, alms, and gifts to all the townspeople and there were few who did not pronounce the name Madeleine with reverence.

He rose, wiped away his tears, and put on a black hat that sat low over his brow. He wrapped a thick, black scarf around his neck and the lower half of his face. As he stepped out the door, he pulled the hood of his cloak up to conceal the rest of his face. Hunched and bent, he would look like just another beggar . He moved with unnatural grace and speed to the fields where his flock was pastured. He was close enough to smell the blood—pungent, primal, and laced with pheromones. His fangs descended from his gums in anticipation.

As he left the fields, the wind rustled his cloak and carried with it a strange, familiar scent. There were humans nearby. The blood flowing in each person’s veins carried a unique scent and he had been told by the vampire who turned him that the blood of each human tasted different.

He stopped in the street s to listen. He could pick up a few faint phrases, a woman’s voice screeching, and a man telling her to remain silent. There were sounds of a commotion. Madeleine ran with preternatural speed to the sight of the disruption in the town square.

A tall man dressed all in black advanced on a woman dressed in a tight red dress and ragged black traveling cape. She had a pleasing form and long, red hair that flowed in loose waves over her pale skin. She was pressed up against a statue, cowering. Although the man’s back was turned; he recognized the heady, intoxicating scent belonging to Inspector Javert.

The woman shook her head, shrinking back from the large man. “No…No…It wasn’t me. Please, Inspector.”

“Silence-- I know what you are.”

“A girl has to earn her living somehow.”

“I’m not referring to your disreputable trade. Several Montreuil residents have died in the past fortnight. You were present at all the crime scenes just before their bodies were discovered.”

The woman drew her cloak protectively around herself, looking suddenly childlike. “And you think I’m a murderer?”

“No. I think you are a harbinger of death and a threat to the town… a threat I intend to remove.”

He reached into his pocket and Madeleine debated intervening. Javert pulled out a nondescript vial, unscrewed a cap, and threw the liquid it contained on the woman. She began to laugh and nothing happened for a moment. Then, her clothing smoked and she hunched over and the laugh became a piercing shriek that seemed to shake the earth. Javert hit the ground, rolling away from her as if he had been toppled by a gale.

He reached into his pocket again and struggled to his feet as her screams intensified. Dogs barked, lights began to flicker in windows, and a glass window nearby shattered. Madeleine pressed his hands over his ears.

The woman seemed to curl into herself. When she stood straight again, she had the face of an old crone—wrinkled skin, sparse grey hair, and black eyes. Javert recited a phrase in Latin which seemed to immobilize her just long enough for him to stab her in the heart. Her mouth opened to reveal needle-sharp teeth and worked soundlessly for a moment before she collapsed. There was a rustling wind that swirled around the fallen creature and suddenly all that remained of her was a pile of rags. Javert lifted them carefully and shook them out. Satisfied, he retrieved his truncheon which he had discarded in the pursuit, and headed in the direction of the station.

Residents were starting to peer out of their windows or come out of their front doors, so Madeleine slipped quietly back to his home, entered through his bedroom window, and collapsed in a large chair in his drawing room.

He had his suspicions about Javert from the time he arrived in Montreuil. Marcus, his cellmate - the one who had made him what he was and taught him the ancient lore of vampires - had told him about men like Javert. Madeleine mused that out of all the officers who could have been posted at Montreuil, he’d ended up with the one officer who could destroy him. It was bad enough that Javert might remember Toulon well enough to expose him as an escaped convict. Madeleine’s very existence was threatened if he recognized him as a vampire. Marcus had told him about men like Javert--hunters trained to seek out and kill so-called aberrations. He considered packing and renting a fiacre to take him far away from Montreuil, but how could he abandon all he had built. For the first time in his life, he was respected-- even loved. How could he leave that behind?

He shed his hunting clothes and dressed in the finely tailored clothes of Madeleine. He left his home for the factory and stopped on his way to his office to inspect equipment and chat with some of the workers.

His elderly concierge brought him tea while he went over crime reports and commented on his appearance as he set the try in front of him. “You’re looking well, Monsieur Mayor. You’ve got some color in your cheeks again. You had me worried you’d caught a chill.”

“Don’t worry, Philippe, I’ve just been a bit tired.”

Madeleine became aware of the second teacup on the tray; and before he could ask, Philippe noticed him staring and replied, “Inspector Javert is waiting outside to deliver his weekly report.”

“Send him in.”

Madeleine did not glance up from the stack of papers for a time, although he did not focus on the words they contained. Instead, he studied his hands, considering whether the temperature and pallor of his skin would give him away. His tongue absently traced his incisors as he considered how to start the conversation. A strange thrill ran through Madeleine whenever Javert was near.  He contemplated the years Javert spent training to hunt and kill his kind in the Surete. Javert was one of the only humans to truly know him-- all his secret weaknesses; all the ways to release him from the burden and blessing of immortality. This thought filled him with terror.; yet it also made his breath quicken with strange excitement.

The inspector stood at attention and cleared his throat; yet he followed protocol and waited silently for the mayor to acknowledge him. Madeleine looked up, taking in his broad shoulders that were tense with military rigidity and the way his uniform accentuated his lean, muscular form. Many would not consider his face handsome. His features were too coarse and as harsh as chiseled granite; yet they were strong and decidedly masculine, and his feral, grey eyes were striking against his dark hair.

“Inspector, the entire town is gossiping about the disappearance of Mademoiselle Lestrade.”

Madeleine glanced up from the paper, and regarded Javert coldly. “The butcher swears she melted like a banshee, but the baker claims there haven’t been any dark creatures in France since the reign of King Louis X and only simpletons believe the stories of their return.”

Javert’s eyes widened briefly before they resumed their calm, neutral expression. “I was under the impression that there were no witnesses. This does complicate matters.”

“I have never found fault with your work as an Inspector. I believe you to be an honorable man. That does not change the fact that you murdered an innocent woman last night.”

Javert’s face flushed and his knuckles turned white on the truncheon tucked under his arm. Each word was vitriolic when he replied. “That thing was not human.”

“Mademoiselle Lestrade never harmed anyone. She was trying to reform and become an honest woman. She tried to suppress her powers. It wasn’t her fault that she could sense death.”

“A tame fox may still bite the hand of the master that shelters it. Have you seen how a banshee’s scream can shatter a human skull? “

“You cornered her. She only screamed because she was threatened!” Madeleine was close to losing control.

“Creatures like that may look human, but they aren’t! They may assume human form, but they can never escape the monster beneath their skin.”

“Are you so convinced that these creatures cannot change, Inspector?”

Javert scoffed in reply. “Not even men can change.”

Madeleine stood and leaned across the desk, a menacing look in his eyes that would have inspired terror in a lesser man.

Javert held his gaze calmly. After a long moment, Javert broke the silence. “I have sworn an oath to prevent these creatures from harming men and I intend to uphold it. There are casualties in any war, Monsieur Mayor. The banshee was a necessary casualty.”

Madeleine breathed deeply for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice was calm. “Since the royal bans were passed under Louis X, people have feared and persecuted creatures that once walked among them without fear. If the people find out about their resurgence, neighbor could turn on neighbor. I merely wish to prevent panic.”

Madeleine forced the tension out of his arms and sat down again. The sudden change in emotion and the release of chemicals that followed had made him acutely aware of the blood pulsing in the inspector’s veins. His eyes were drawn to the spot just above Javert’s cravat where the regular throb of his pulse marked his heartbeat; the scent of his blood was a heady, enticing mix of musk and something pure that reminded him of the air after rain. He found himself slightly dizzy; a flush crept into his cheeks and he tried to think of anything else to avoid wondering how the Inspector’s blood would taste. He felt his fangs starting to descend , and he dug his fingernails into his palm under the desk until the pain suppressed the base desire to feed. There was a terrible ringing in his ears that increased in intensity with each beat of Javert’s heart . A rough sound ended the ringing and roused him from the trance. Madeleine realized that Javert had resumed speaking. 

"When I was stationed here, you knew of my training with the Surete. I find it curious that you did not raise any objections then.”

“At that time, I was unaware of the extent of your..nocturnal activities.” Madeleine released a piece of paper that he had unconsciously crumpled in his left hand.

“Hunters have been sanctioned by Paris for over a hundred years. Furthermore, I have decreased crime significantly.”

The anger had drained out of Madeleine’s voice. Now, he merely felt impatience and a desire to end the conversation and get the Inspector out of his office before he lost control and harmed him. “At what cost, Inspector?”

“Do you suggest that I let these dark creatures run free in our town? Montreuil is full of them!”

Madeleine shook his head. “No. I am not questioning the need for a hunter. I merely suggest that some of your methods are extreme.”

Javert's jaw was clenched. “Extreme in what way? I was under the impression that the hunting of aberrations falls under my jurisdiction.”

Madeleine sighed. “In killing these creatures, as you refer to them, you are acting as hunter, judge, jury, and executioner.”

“Well, what would you have me do? Ask them in for tea? Talk to them about reforming?” Javert snarled and a feral grin exposed gums and teeth.“Monsieur Mayor, your naiveté astounds me.”

“I am suggesting a compromise. You may continue hunting using whatever methods you deem necessary—with the exception of death.“

Javert’s smile disappeared and was replaced by a piercing, terrible glare. “I remind you that there isn’t a prison built that can house many of these creatures. You don’t know what you are asking.”

“You are a man of some intelligence. I’m sure you can figure out ways to solve any issues that arise,” Madeleine replied.

“And if my own life is threatened?”

“Only kill if there are no other alternatives.” Madeleine stood and walked over to a bookshelf. The volume he pulled out was very old; the leather binding was cracked in several places and the yellowed pages were fragile. He handed it to the inspector whose eyes widened in astonishment.

“How did you come by this?”

“This book was passed on to me by a friend dead many years now. I am not wholly ignorant of the work you do, Inspector. I have studied many supernatural phenomena over the years. I believe that you might find some of my knowledge helpful.”

“What are you proposing?”

“I am proposing you accept my assistance.”

“Is this an order?”

“No, Javert. It is a request.”

Javert studied him gravely. “Then, I regret that I must respectfully decline your offer. I work alone.”

He attempted to hand the book back to Madeleine. His fingers brushed Madeleine’s hand for a moment and Madeleine flinched at the contact. Javert’s hands lingered for a moment on Madeleine’s cold skin and his eyes narrowed before the mayor pushed the book back toward him and released it.

“No. Keep it. I suspect you will find it more useful than I.”

Javert bowed stiffly and turned to leave.

“One thing more, Inspector. Should I find out about anymore…sudden deaths of residents, I will be forced to intervene.”

Javert blanched and looked poised to seize the mayor by his collar; instead, he nodded stiffly and stormed out of the office. Once he was gone, the mayor paced his office and breathed deeply trying to calm himself. Although his appetite was sated only hours before; his confrontation with Javert had brought about a renewed hunger that would have to wait until later than night.


	2. Even Churches Have Their Demons

Javert sat in his apartment pondering the unpleasant conversation with Monsieur Madeleine. He’d never trusted the man who the entire town seemed to love. A man of contradictions, Madeleine had vexed Javert from the start. He was too good, too giving. On the surface, he seemed a simple, hardworking country man. Although he lacked an education, he was eloquent and well-read. There was also the matter of his unnatural strength. No amount of research had solved the mystery thus far; each time he drew close to finding answers, he would lose the trail. 

He turned a page in the book Madeleine had given him roughly, frowning as the page crinkled and threatened to tear. He rubbed his eyes and shut the volume. The candle had burned nearly to the base. He rose, turned down the covers, and sat on the bed still wearing his uniform. A knock on the door interrupted him as he bent and started to take off his boots. He sighed then rose and went to the door. Through the peephole, he could see the priest, father Delastang. 

He thrust the door open, irritation tempered only by his respect for the clergyman. 

“How may I be of assistance, Father?” 

The small, wiry man was nearing seventy-five and many of the townsfolk commented that he was going senile. He grasped Javert’s hand, causing the inspector to stiffen in discomfort. “Thank heavens you’re awake, Inspector. I don’t know what I would have done.” The man’s wrinkled cheeks were flushed and there was terror in his blue eyes that were just beginning to show the milky discoloration of cataracts. 

“Well, what is the problem?” 

The man released the inspector’s hand. “It’s a serious matter, Javert.” 

“Tell me quickly, father.” 

“It’s the stone.” 

“Yes, what of it? Has the church been damaged?” 

“No. At least not by human hands.” 

“Well, one of the sisters, Sister Simplice, noticed that some of old stones we use for repairs were moved from the courtyard. Then, yesterday, one almost fell right on top of Sister Perpetue when she was walking back to the cloister after mass. She looked up and she thought she saw the stone move on top of the church.” 

“She is certain what she saw was not a person. Perhaps a laborer dropped the stone accidentally.” 

“There was no one working at that time of night.” 

Javert thought for a moment. “Then perhaps the wind. The church is quite old.” 

The priest wrung his hands. “I considered that myself, Inspector. Tonight, I saw the creature with my own eyes.” 

“Perhaps you had better come inside.” 

The priest nodded and followed him. He escorted the priest to a chair at his kitchen table and retrieved paper and a writing quill from his desk. Seated at the table, he prepared to take notes. 

“Can you describe the creature?” 

“It was dark so I didn’t see it very well. First, I heard a noise like the wings of a bird—only, I don’t know of any birds that big. It flew right over my head and perched on top of the bell tower. It was big and had enormous wings that looked like a bat’s. It let out a terrible roar as it flew over my head. If I hadn’t dropped down so quickly, I fear I would’ve been carried off. “ 

“Where is the creature now?” 

“As far as I know, it’s still up in the bell tower.” 

“Good. Let us hope it will remain there.” 

“There’s something else. It looked like part of the church—one of the gargoyles. You must think I’m mad. There haven’t been gargoyles here in years.” The priest shook his head. 

“No, Father. I think you are quite sane. I need you to return to the cathedral and tell everyone to stay inside until morning. Be careful and avoid the bell tower. I’ll be there shortly.” 

Javert shut the door and swept the clothes aside in his bedroom closet and removed a panel to expose his hidden arsenal. He grabbed a net, his iron-tipped blade, and a crossbow and threw them into a satchel, taking a deep breath as he left his apartment. 

Once Javert reached the church, he knocked on the sanctuary door and commanded Father Delastang to stay inside until he called for him. He pulled the crossbow from his satchel and loaded it with an arrow dipped in holy water. Javert drew his crossbow and crouched behind one of the pillars lining the walkway between the sanctuary and the cloisters. It was silent and dark clouds enshrouded the moon. He took a torch from the wall and stalked forward, hiding behind whatever shrub or statue he could use for concealment. When he reached the bell tower, his eyes were drawn to six deep gouges marring the side of the building. He stretched out a gloved finger and traced the marks, gauging the depth. 

There was a loud whooshing sound overhead and Javert crouched low. A terrible screech followed and though he saw nothing while his head was bent low, he felt the rush of air above his head. He rolled away from the noise and turned to see the huge winged creature that was perching on a statue, regarding him with glowing red eyes. It was easily eight feet tall with the body of a man and the webbed wings of a bat. It had a razor-sharp beak and talons like a carrion bird’s made to rend both flesh and stone. It flexed its wings and made an eerie keening sound. 

“Where did you come from? I’m not afraid of you. I tracked your kind through the streets of Paris.” 

Javert did not know if the gargoyle was capable of sentient thought or if it could understand human speech; but he did not care. While the creature watched him, he lifted his crossbow and aimed it at the beast, searching for the only weak point on its more fragile underbelly. Just as he prepared to release the arrow, the creature took flight. It hovered in the air above his head and snatched at him with its enormous talons. Javert shot an arrow into the area where the wing joined the body, thinking to disable the beast. The arrow bounced off the stony flesh and fell to the ground. The creature flapped its wings at Javert’s head, knocking him off his feet. He rolled to his back and thrust the torch into the creatures face, momentarily blinding it and allowing him to get to his knees. He dropped the torch when he fell and had to rely on moonlight and the glow of the creature’s eyes. He thrust his hand into his satchel to retrieve the net and launcher—his best chance was to immobilize the creature. Before he could connect the net to the launching device, he felt a horrible weight digging into his shoulder that caused him to cry out. Blood flowed freely from wounds where the gargoyle’s talons pierced his skin. He twisted from side to side in the iron grasp of the beast, trying to shake himself free, but one of the talons was close to striking bone and he was weakening from the loss of blood. The beast’s breath was hot on his neck and he felt himself being hoisted as if on enormous hooks. 

Something large and sturdy slammed into him, jarring the talons in his shoulder and knocking both he and the beast to the ground. The gargoyle released him and the crushing pressure was gone. Javert pressed a hand to his shoulder and weakly crawled to his feet, retrieving the torch. The mayor stood over the fallen gargoyle, pinning it to the ground with his bare hands. He craned his neck to look at Javert. 

“I have him for now, but I’m not sure how long I can hold him.” 

Javert did not stop to ask questions of the mayor. He rested the torch on the ground and he loaded the net on its launcher and walked behind the man and beast. The furious creature lay on its back with its wings pinned to the side. Madeleine was half-lying on top of it. “Get out of the way so I can trap it.” 

“Are you sure? I’m not sure I can catch it again!” 

“Yes! Just get out of the way. I cannot take the shot with you lying there.” 

Madeleine shifted his weight and then looked at Javert who nodded. As soon as Madeleine released the gargoyle, Javert fired the net, trapping the creature. He walked around the net then said to himself. “That should hold him long enough.” 

“Long enough for what?” Madeleine asked. 

“Long enough for the sun to rise.” 

“Ah! I will wait with you.” Madeleine kneeled on the ground a few paces a way from the writhing gargoyle. 

“That isn’t necessary. I’m sure that the mayor has much better things to occupy his time.” 

“Nothing at the moment.” 

There was a long silence. The first traces of orange were beginning to appear on the horizon. The peculiar scent of Javert’s blood was strong .

The mayor handed him a handkerchief. Javert stared at it, but did not take it. “You’re bleeding, Inspector.” 

“Yes.” Javert reluctantly accepted the handkerchief and pressed it to his shoulder, but the cloth was saturated in a few seconds. 

“What do we do now?” Madeleine asked. 

“We wait.” Javert forced himself to breathe deeply, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder. 

They remained in silence, watching the sky erupt in the brilliant hues of the sunrise. There was a sound like a great avalanche. The creature made one last shriek of protest and stretched its restricted limbs a final time before turning to stone. A few moments passed and then Javert walked over to the creature and tapped it with his boot. Satisfied, he made his way to the sanctuary and returned carrying a large pickaxe. He cast the net off the creature and raised the pickaxe above his head. Madeleine seized it before he could bring it down on the gargoyle. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m destroying the abomination.” Javert tried to pull the pickaxe from Madeleine’s grip, but he refused to remove his hand. 

Madeleine shook his head. “It can’t harm anyone now.” 

“The gargoyle will only remain in its stone form until tonight. Then, it will attack again.” Javert’s voice had taken on an inhuman growl and his words began to run together. 

“I don’t believe it intended to harm anyone. I believe this gargoyle was living in the Cathedral outside of Arras. When the cathedral was destroyed, it must have fled looking for a new home.” 

“It’s easy to give human characteristics to monsters like this, Monsieur Mayor. This is merely a beast driven by the need to hunt. If you allow it to live, you are placing all the citizens of Montreuil in danger.” 

Javert finally released his grip on the pickaxe and let it drop .

Madeleine presented him with an alternative. “I’m not proposing we set it free. I’m suggesting we relocate it to the mountains. They provide ample nesting areas and food sources.”

“Who is going to take it there, it’s several hours away?” 

“I will go myself if necessary, but I am certain there are carters who would be willing to transport this..statue for sufficient coin.” Madeleine mischievously raised one eyebrow. 

Javert’s dark eyes narrowed . “I will obey your order.” He crossed his arms and gruffly barked, “I will not be held responsible if anyone is injured in this endeavor.” 

The priest came out of the church at that point still dressed in his nightgown and nightcap. He thanked Javert effusively. “Monsieur Inspector, thank you. We are in your debt.” He extended his hand. Rather than shake it, Javert bowed at the waist. 

The small man turned toward Madeleine. “And you, M. Madeleine…” 

Madeleine offered his hand to the priest. “I merely happened upon Javert in the midst of capturing the beast and assisted with restraining it.” 

“We are forever in your debt,” the priest replied. 

“I will make arrangements for the transport of the gargoyle and see that it is carried a safe distance from the town,” M. Madeleine assured. 

The priest thanked them again and took his leave. Javert swayed on his feet a little, but his pride would not allow him to sit down. Madeleine caught the slight motion and took the inspector’s arm. Javert attempted to shake Madeleine off, but found that he lacked the strength. 

“You should go to the hospital.” 

“No. I do not trust hospitals. Besides, I’ve experienced worse—this is nothing.” Javert knew that the kinds of wounds he had could not be treated with conventional medicine. “I just need to get home where I have the supplies necessary for treatment.” 

Madeleine still held his arm in a gentle, yet inescapable grip. “I will accompany you.” 

Javert shook his head, rapidly becoming irritated. “No—that is not necessary.” 

“Javert—you can barely stand.” The inspector started to protest when a wave of dizziness hit him. 

“I suppose you will just follow me there anyway if I say no?” 

“That is correct.” 

Much to Javert’s chagrin, he was forced to lean on Madeleine as he neared his small apartment. He gritted his teeth on the landing as he stared up at the flight of stairs leading to the second floor, but he would be damned if he was going to end up being dragged or carried. 

When they entered the apartment, Madeleine steered the weakening man to a chair in the kitchen. 

“Do you have bandages? This wound needs to be dressed.” 

Loathe as he was to have Madeleine nosing through his apartment, Javert was too weak to retrieve the items himself.   
“Second drawer on the left. Behind the bandages, there’s a flask and a container of herbs and a mortar and pestle. I will require those as well.” 

Javert rested his head on the table as Madeleine searched. “Be quick about it!” he snapped. “The poison is starting to take effect.” 

Madeleine raced to his side with the items. 

Javert weakly extended a hand. “Hand me the flask and the vial.” 

Madeleine handed them to Javert, but the inspector’s hands were beginning to shake and he set them down on the table. 

“Damn—it’s too late.” 

“Nonsense. Tell me what to do.” 

“The flask contains holy water. The other is an extract of willow bark and feverfew. Mix half of the flask with the vial until it forms a thick paste. Then, I need to apply it to the wounds.” 

Javert struggled with the black uniform coat, grimacing as he stretched his injured shoulder. He unbuckled the leather stock while Madeleine mixed the ingredients. He had difficulty removing his shirt; but when Madeleine moved to assist him, he brushed his hand away. 

The exertion from the simple act of removing those pieces of clothing had sapped his strength and his head dipped towards his chest. As the wounds were revealed Madeleine gasped. Javert’s skin was pale where it was not stained with drying blood and three deep punctures still oozed. The veins around the wounds had taken on a silvery appearance. Before the mixture could be applied, Madeleine had to wash the wounds. Javert shivered at the contact of the water and Madeleine’s even colder skin, ghosting down his arm, shoulder, and back. As the blood was cleaned off, Madeleine felt the stirrings of hunger. He had learned how to control the urges, but when he was newly made, his lust for blood might have overruled his desire to remain righteous. Still, being so tantalizingly close to human blood, especially the intoxicating blood of this human, tormented him, and his fangs threatened to descend more than once. 

Madeleine marveled at the number of scars lining Javert’s back and torso that became visible as the blood was washed away: punctures from tooth marks, skin stretched and slick from burns, white corded marks from gashes that did not heal well, and circular marks from bullets lined his lean, muscular body. Valjean had been marked in Toulon-the scars on his ankles and wrists from shackles, the lash marks, and the brand on his chest. Those had faded after his transformation. 

He spoke more to himself than the half-conscious inspector. “You were telling the truth when you said you’ve survived worse.” 

“Of course. What reason would I have to lie?” Javert replied before sinking back toward unconsciousness. 

The strangest impulse seized Madeleine and sent a flush to his cheeks. He had the sudden urge to kiss and touch every one of the scars. What would have been disfigurements to others were beautiful to Madeleine: each one was a symbol of his strength and survival. He shook his head. He bent low, leaning over Javert’s shoulder and his lips brushed the area behind the man’s ear. The motion put him in contact with the area of Javert’s pulse and made his head pound and his heart race. He could hear and feel each beat of the man’s heart as if it were his own heartbeat. He was filled with a desire to devour and possess—a desire to touch every inch of the man, to inhale the scent of his hair, to feed on his blood. For a moment, his mind returned to thoughts of the things that happened in the dark of the Bagne. Though he was chaste then, he felt his arousal growing when he touched Javert’s skin. 

He felt Javert’s heartbeat growing slow and erratic and he forced himself to act. He smeared the paste on the wounds and began to wrap them in bandages. He cursed himself for his weakness and prayed the delay would not cost Javert his life. The silver coloring began to fade from the wounds. He could feel Javert’s heartbeat increasing. He rested his head to listen to the reassuring sound. He expected the man to spring awake, confused and enraged. He closed his eyes, listening to the regular cadence of his heart. He had forgotten the beautiful sound of a human heartbeat. Madeleine could feel his inconsistent immortal heart begin to beat in tandem with Javert’s and for a moment, it was as if they shared one heartbeat. It was more intimate than any fantasy he could imagine. 

Javert’s eyes opened. The poison was leaving his system, but he still appeared disoriented. Valjean lifted his head and found himself staring into Javert’s dilated, wild eyes. His breathing was rapid and his skin was flushed and hot. Rather than attempting to shake his hand off, Javert leaned towards him, his hand brushing Madeleine’s chest. Madeleine felt his arousal return with a rush of sudden heat at the brief touch. His hand reached out to touch the side of Javert’s face, at first to see if his skin was feverish. His hand mapped out his lined brow, the broad, square jaw, and the half-lidded dark eyes. Javert leaned into the touch, moaning softly at the contact. When Madeleine felt the urge to bite and feed, he suppressed it by moving to straddle him and kissed the inspector’s olive skin instead. He placed searching kisses on his eyelids, his nose, his earlobe, and neck. His attentions caused Javert’s breath to hitch, and his back arched at the contact. His lips brushed Javert’s lightly at first and then more insistently. Javert’s lips parted for him and his tongue explored his mouth hungrily. Javert moaned into his mouth as their tongues met for the first time in an awkward dance, swirling and battling. Javert’s mouth tasted of spearmint and spices. Javert was breathless and Madeleine was forced to break the kiss. His hands traveled down Javert’s chest, tracing the patterns of dark hair speckled with silver over his heart. 

He twisted his hands in the inspector’s hair and kissed him again. He leaned forward and the motion brought him into contact with Javert’s lap, causing a glorious friction as their groins touched. The man gasped and bucked against him, filling him with a rush of pleasure. Javert’s arms encircled his neck and they moved against each other, hips rolling and jerking until they were both panting and close to release. Madeleine placed a hand on Javert’s shoulder to stop him from bringing them both to completion so quickly and his hands moved down to the waistband of Javert’s trousers. 

He raised a smoldering gaze to Javert’s face and was met with an unfocused, unblinking stare. Although his body responded to Madeleine’s touch, there was no sign of awareness. He had not meant to use his hypnotic powers to put Javert in a trance. The nearness of that hot blood coupled with his own loneliness and exhaustion had brought forth the monster within him against his will. 

Madeleine still felt their hearts sharing the same beat. “What have I done?” 

Madeleine abruptly stepped away from the man and draped a blanket over his shoulders. As much as he thought he wanted the man, to allow this to go any farther was wrong. He needed to get out of the room with the man and his damnably pure blood that had caused him to sin. First, he had Javert to a safe place before he woke him. He lifted the large man and carried him into his bedroom and laid him on the bed. He pulled the boots off of Javert’s feet and pulled the covers over him. A strand of long, grey-streaked hair had escaped from its queue and Madeleine brushed it from the man’s eyes. He told himself that what he had initiated was wrong and the result of his hunger for blood rather than desire. The arousal he thought he saw had been just a trick of the light or perhaps it was Javert’s response to the trance and nothing more. The base desires he felt had been replaced by strange tenderness as he watched the man now sleeping on the bed. He pressed a final chaste kiss to the man’s brow and left him to sleep. He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the sounds of the waking city until he heard two distinct heart beats once more; one beat strong and regular, the other muted and chaotic. He could not explain the loss he felt at that moment.


	3. The Empty Grave

Javert woke not long after Madeleine left him. He was lying on his bed and his wounds had been dressed. The sharp pain in his shoulder had been replaced by a dull ache . His lips felt thick and sore. His eyes fluttered open and he pulled back the covers. He was still wearing his uniform trousers, but his boots and shirt had been removed. He remembered capturing the gargoyle and Madeleine escorting him home and tending his wounds and little else. He hoped he had recovered and managed to get himself to bed. The thought of Madeleine carrying him was intolerable. He flexed his shoulder, testing it. It would be a few days before he would be back to hunting, but he should be able to complete his police patrols. 

He dressed and went to the station before starting his patrol. The next few weeks were thankfully quiet with the exception of a petty theft and a dispute over who would pay for damage from a tree that fell on a roof. Madeleine had been avoiding him in the streets and he always seemed to find an excuse to be out of the office when Javert stopped by to give his reports. His concierge always gave the same answer. “I am sorry, Monsieur Madeleine is very busy with official business.” 

Finally, one morning, Madeleine heard the sound of raised voices outside his office. “If M. Madeleine refuses to admit me, then I will be forced to inform the prefecture.” 

Phillipe stammered “I’m just following the mayor’s orders, Inspector. Perhaps if you return tomorrow.” 

M. Madeleine opened the door to his office looking pale and haggard. “It’s alright, Phillipe. Come in, Inspector.” 

Inspector Javert regained control over his emotions in the presence of the mayor and calmly followed Madeleine into his office, waiting until the mayor addressed him.

“Yes, Inspector?” Madeleine’s seemed exceedingly tense to Javert.

“Perhaps you could elucidate why you have not been willing to hear my reports. Has my work been unsatisfactory?” 

Madeleine stared sheepishly at him and stammered. “Certainly not.” 

“Forgive the intrusion, but there is something we need to discuss. It’s a matter of some importance.” 

If Madeleine could still blush, his skin would have been crimson. “I am so sorry, Inspector..” Madeleine’s voice trailed off. He could not bring himself to say for what. Apparently, Javert remembered and had come to expose him. 

“What the devil are you apologizing for? A magistrate should not apologize to an officer.” 

“The night you caught the gargoyle…” 

Javert blinked in confusion. “You helped me capture it and treated my wounds.” 

Relief washed over Madeleine. “Ah…yes.” 

“I’ve been trying to thank you for weeks and to let you know that I’ve reconsidered your offer of assistance.” 

“That’s..very good.” Madeleine replied awkwardly. He pretended to be engrossed in reading a paper on his desk to avoid making eye contact. “What changed your mind?” He forced himself to glance up briefly at Javert. 

“I never trusted you before. Your goodness and charity seemed artificial—even repulsive. You are frequently too lenient with criminals, you interfere in police business, and your citizens lack discipline.” 

“Javert, if you have come here to insult me…” 

Javert held up a hand. “I would not dare. You saved my life and I am in your debt. This is quite an uncomfortable position for me and one I am unaccustomed to.” 

Madeleine started to interrupt. “You do not owe me anything….

“I owe you my life and I wish to repay you as a matter of honor.” 

“What do you propose?” Madeleine still spent most of the conversation looking at the blank page. 

“I have given some thought to your proposal that we work together; and despite my reservations, I feel that you would be..an asset.” 

“That’s..very good news.”

Javert paced the office, turning away from the mayor briefly. “That was quite a feat when you caught that gargoyle. A full grown gargoyle can weigh nearly a ton.” 

Madeleine forced himself to assume a placid, even tone when he replied, “I have seen a mother lift a large boulder off her trapped child. In times of crisis, god gives us strength.” 

Javert nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. “Forgive me, Monsieur Mayor. I have only ever seen one man capable of lifting those weights. He was a prisoner in the Bagne of Toulon.” 

Madeleine made direct and unflinching eye contact with Javert and replied coldly, “I have much business to attend to and my schedule for the day is full. If there is nothing else…” 

Javert bowed stiffly. “No. I will contact you when the need arises.” 

He turned to leave and Madeleine was left alone in his office to ponder Javert’s insinuations and pray the fierce hunter would never remember what passed between them.. 

It was only a week before Javert called for Madeleine’s assistance. He came to his office in the morning to report that one of the cart drivers, Andre Vallee, was reported wandering around the town causing disturbances. 

“Yes, this is a regular occurrence.” Madeleine replied. He recalled that Andre frequented the docks and was frequently drunk and violent. 

“Yes, but Andre has been dead for a week.” Javert smirked as he watched Madeleine’s jaw drop and continued, “If you will accompany me to the cemetery tonight, I will explain.” 

Javert knocked on Madeleine’s door at half past ten that evening. Madeleine grabbed his coat and the two men walked to the town cemetery. When they reached Vallee’s grave; Javert handed his torch to Madeleine , knelt by the grave, and motioned Madeleine closer. Madeleine pressed a handkerchief over his mouth and nose. 

“You won’t need that.” Javert gestured down to the grave. 

Madeleine peered reluctantly into the disturbed plot and the open wooden coffin and gasped. “It’s empty.” 

“Precisely. I thought it might be graverobbers at first. Then, last night, his neighbor reported him staring in her window.” 

“A miracle?” Madeleine gasped. 

Javert shook his head, confounded by Madeleine’s innocent response. “This man is no Lazarus.” 

“What is he—spirit or flesh?” Madeleine rose, turning away from the grave. 

“I am afraid there is no simple explanation.” 

“I am learning there rarely is when you are involved, Inspector.” Madeleine’s eyes met Javert’’s, and for a moment he feared he had offended the man. Then, Javert’s shoulders shook and Madeleine realized he was laughing silently. Seeing the stoic man laugh made Madeleine smile in return. 

When Javert recovered, he rose and he resumed his confident stance—arms crossed and head held high. “There are many things which can cause the dead to walk—plagues, dark magic, demonic possession.” 

“Which do you think is at work here?” Madeleine asked. 

“I have my suspicions, but I need to see the creature. There have been several robberies linked to Vallee, so it follows that we are not dealing with a plague.” 

“So, someone created it then?” Madeleine raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

“Yes.” 

“Why?” 

“Many more powerful beings find particularly nasty uses for undead servants. It keeps them from dirtying their hands or attracting suspicion.” Javert whirled around to make sure they were alone in the graveyard. The mist rose up from the damp earth and the torchlight cast sharp shadows across the headstones. 

Suddenly, Madeleine swayed on his feet and his gasped as if he had been hit. Javert grasped his arm, steadying him. “What is it?” 

“Didn’t you hear it?” Madeleine’s tone was near hysterical. 

“Hear what?” 

“A woman’s scream.” 

“I heard no scream.” Javert regarded him with concern. 

“Please, I fear time is short. We must hurry.” Madeleine grabbed his arm, steering him towards the gate. 

“My search of the cemetery is incomplete,” Javert snarled brusquely as he jerked his arm from Madeleine’s grasp.

The men rushed out of the cemetery, into the town, and towards the front door of a modest house. A young mother clutched a baby to her breast, which cried pitifully. She was kneeling and weeping, shoulders slumped in a posture communicating utter desolation. Madeleine crouched beside her in the mud and placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.   
“What happened, Madame?” 

The woman’s face was red and swollen. She forced her response out between sobs that shook her small frame. “He took my Marie. The Vallee Man has my daughter.” 

“Are you so certain it was Andre Vallee? “ Javert asked. 

“Yes, Inspector. I used to do his washing. I thought he was dead.” 

“I need you to tell me which direction he went. Time is of the essence.” 

She adjusted the crying infant in her arms and pointed to the woods. “Please bring her home, Monsieur.” 

Javert studied her and tried to find the appropriate words. “Madame, your daughter may already be dead, but we will do everything in our power to see that she is recovered safely.” 

The woman sobbed louder and began to wail.

Madeleine looked at him and his eyes flashed with righteous anger. “We will find her. I promise.” 

He chastised Javert as they walked. “Why did you tell her that. The poor woman has been through enough.” 

Javert turned and regarded him harshly. “Is lying to her any better? I merely tried to prepare her.” 

Madeleine shook his head in response and sighed. They did not speak as they made there way past the last house on the road leading into the woods. Madeleine held the torch and stretched out with his sensitive hearing, listening to the sounds of a brook flowing and the movements of animals. Javert crouched on the ground and studied the terrain. He pointed to a spot a few paces from where they stood.   
“There—what do you see?” 

Madeleine stared at the tracks Javert had found. There were two sets of tracks—a set of larger foot prints accompanied by a smaller one. The smaller tracks grew longer and then disappeared. “It’s as if the child was resisting and had to be dragged.” 

“Precisely. These tracks are fresh. I’m guessing the child was alive just a few minutes ago.” 

There was a light coming from somewhere far ahead and they approached the sight cautiously. As they neared an open glade, Madeleine heard the snap of a twig and pulled Javert behind a tree. In the glade, there was a ring of torches casting sinister shadows on two figures. A little girl of about ten sat sobbing on a tree stump while a man bound her hands. 

“I want to go home. I want my mother.” 

They could only make out the silhouette of his clothes which were tattered and filthy and his broad, large form.   
“Shut up. You belong to my master now.” 

The child whimpered and her eyes were terrified. “What is he going to do to me?” 

“That depends on what kind of mood he’s in..and how hungry he is.” 

Javert whispered darkly, “It’s just as I feared. There is a vampire involved.” 

“What does he want with the child? There are enough cattle and sheep on which to feed and there is no scarcity of men.” 

“It is the attraction of virgin blood. Vampires are drawn to blood they consider pure. The oldest and most evil of their kind need untainted blood to sustain them. “ 

Madeleine shuddered to think that he could one day become like that. He would rather be destroyed than sacrifice innocents to live.   
J  
Javert drew out a book from his worn hunting satchel and whispered to Madeleine. “I need you to see to the child while I begin the process of removing the curse.” Javert retrieved a silver-tipped knife from the bag which he concealed in the pocket of his greatcoat. 

Javert nodded to Madeleine as he stepped out from behind the tree and began to read, causing the man to turn around and step away from the girl. Andre Vallee’s face was a pale, sickly green; his cheeks and eyes were sunken, and his lips were drawn back to reveal his gums. A patch of blotchy skin on his forehead marked the beginning of decay. His movements were unnaturally jerky as if they were involuntary spasms. The cloying stench of rot pervaded the glade. He took two jolting, stiff steps toward Javert and then began to laugh. It was not the boisterous guffaws of the living Vallee. This rasping, throaty laugh held the sepulchral depth of the tomb. 

“You won’t stop me with your little book, human.” 

Javert continued to read as the creature advanced painfully towards him. He watched over the creature’s shoulder as Madeleine untied the child and prepared to lead her away. The creature took another step towards him and with deceptive quickness, the cadaverous hands were at his throat, lifting him off the ground. He gasped for air, feet striking out wildly. The book fell from his grasp. 

“So weak. So fragile. I could snap your neck with just a little pressure.” 

Javert struggled for breath and bright flashes of color obscured his vision. His hand seized the knife in his pocket and he sunk it into the monster’s arm. Vallee did not feel pain anymore, but it was enough to make him release Javert and allow Javert time to recover the book. 

Madeleine was carrying the frightened girl and preparing to run when the beast turned around and roared ,enraged that his prize was gone. 

“Bring her back! She belongs to my master!” 

Madeleine drew himself up to his full height with the girl safely behind him. “I won’t let you harm this innocent child.” 

Javert got to his feet and begin to read again. The creature panicked and raced at Madeleine, thinking to knock him off his feet. Instead, Madeleine skidded backward a few feet. The child clutched his legs and whimpered.   
A cold wind blew through the glade and extinguished two of the torches. Suddenly, the creature looked at Javert and turned back toward Madeleine. He pointed an accusing finger at Madeleine’s chest. 

“You’re a traitor to your kind! I see why you keep that human as a pet. His blood is pure!” 

Javert stopped reading, stunned. “I am not his pet!” he screamed. His expression became wounded and then enraged. “Is this true, Madeleine?” 

The creature turned back toward Javert and laughed cruelly. “The hunter did not know! Poor fool!” I could trade your hunter for the child. My master would take great pleasure in feeding on him.” 

Javert had picked up the book and was reading again. Madeleine’s expression suddenly became neutral. “He has been tracking me for some time. I admit, I had thought to feed on his blood myself, but I would welcome the chance to get rid of him.” 

“Yesss.. Perhaps I shall taste his flesh myself before I give him to the Master.”

Javert’s expression was agonized. He was having difficulty focusing on the words as he tried to understand Madeleine’s betrayal. He had begun to understand the man—to see him strangely as a kindred spirit and a brother in arms. He didn’t fully understand friendship, but perhaps working together had even made them friends. 

He was almost finished. Just a little more. Suddenly, as he finished the last words, the creature’s hand was on his shoulder, dragging him to Madeleine. As they stood a pace away from him; Madeleine struck the creature across the face, ripping away a chunk of the desiccated, moldering flesh to expose white bone beneath. 

“Run, Javert. Take the girl!” he shouted. 

Javert did not run. Instead, he stabbed the creature through the heart. It howled and released him. A thick, black smoke poured from the wound, and the shell of Andre Vallee collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cut. The black cloud circled the glade searching for another host. Madeleine shielded the child with his body. 

Javert stood tall, staring down the deadly vapors and said, “Be gone.” 

The cloud disappeared in a cyclone and was swept up over the treetops. 

Madeleine lifted the little girl and whispered comforting words in her ear. “The Inspector and I will make sure you get home safely, Marie. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She buried her face in his shoulder. 

Madeleine’s eyes were weary when he addressed Javert again. “I apologize for the ruse. You know I would never betray you.” 

Javert ‘s thoughts were scattered and he could conjure no appropriate response. When he was able to respond, his tone was professional but icy. 

“I must dispose of Mr. Vallee’s ..remains. I will meet you at the factory to deliver my formal report in the morning.”.

“Perhaps you would meet me at my home tonight. There is much we need to discuss.” 

Javert stared at him accusingly. He no longer addressed the mayor formally. “Yes, there is.”

Once Madeleine had carried the child safely away from the scene, Javert set fire to the corpse and scattered the ashes to the winds. He took the longer path back into town, pondering what to do about Madeleine. The honorable action for a hunter was to kill him. Madeleine had saved Javert more than once and the thought of killing him sickened Javert. There was something else-- a strange warmth and a feeling he did not understand and could not name that he only experienced in the presence of Madeleine. 

Unaccustomed to introspection, Javert pushed the feelings to the back of his mind. He would question Madeleine before making his decision. He stopped at his house to retrieve the equipment he would need should Madeleine give the wrong answers.


	4. The Rapture of Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javert confronts Madeleine about his past. This chapter contains explicit sexual content.

Madeleine answered the door and offered to take the inspector’s coat, but the inspector refused. He led him into the dining room, motioned for Javert to sit, and when the man remained standing, he slumped into a chair.

“Are you hungry? I can make you coffee or tea. There are some passably good scones I think.” 

Javert’s heart begin to race as he formulated his question—the one that would determine whether Madeleine lived or died for the moment. 

“Have you ever killed a human?” 

Madeleine sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Never. I only feed on livestock. Even then, I try to choose those that are sickly and weak.” 

Javert relaxed his grip on the strap of his bag and let it drop toward the floor. Madeleine watched the motion and said, “If you intend to kill me, then you do not need those. I will not fight you. I have no desire to harm you.” 

“I do not wish to kill you, but I am a hunter and I am by nature skeptical. There are things I must know.” 

“I will answer anything.” 

“How were you born?” Javert leaned forward and fixed Madeleine with a piercing stare. 

“I had no choice in the matter. I was attacked by a vampire while I slept.” 

“Don’t you suffer the cravings?” 

“Yes, I fight a battle with my darker urges every day, but I have grown accustomed to suppressing the hunger. I have lived so long on the blood of animals that the idea of drinking the blood of a human is repulsive. “ 

“How old are you?” 

“I am 54 years old.” 

Javert scoffed in reply. “You needn’t lie to me.” 

“I am telling the truth. Marcus, the cellmate who turned me, was centuries old. I am newly made, but I might reach the same advanced age--unless you wish to execute me.” 

“Most new vampires are mad with bloodlust—how did you resist?” 

“In the place where I was turned, there were precious few opportunities to feed and I lived on the blood of rats.” 

“And where was that?” 

“You already know, Inspector.” 

“There’s no need to be cryptic, M. Mayor.” 

Madeleine sighed and held his head in his hands a moment before looking at Javert with a pained expression. 

“You deserve to hear the truth. You accused me once of being a convict…” 

Javert’s shoulders tensed and his hand brushed the pocket of his greatcoat. “Yes, what of it?” 

“Your suspicions about me were correct.” 

Javert smiled joylessly. “24601. I knew it! A monster and a thief masquerading as mayor.” 

Madeleine replied sadly, “I do not intend to run. I am at your disposal now. You may take me to prison or if you prefer you may deal with me yourself. I will not resist.” 

Javert stood and closed the distance between them to stand behind Madeleine. He placed his hands on the man’s shoulders and held them firmly for a long moment. Valjean remained motionless, waiting for Javert to move as the man's long fingers dug into his skin. 

Javert removed his hands and Valjean heard the sound of something being drawn from Javert’s bag.

“Stand up.” Javert commanded. 

Valjean complied and raised his arms. “Javert…I..” 

“Speak up when you address an officer of the law. Now, put your hands behind your back.” 

Valjean did not resist as Javert placed his right hand in the cuffs and grasped his left. For the first time, Javert’s hands shook. He released Valjean’s hand and the cuffs fell from his grasp. There was a rustling behind him and slowly, Valjean straightened up. 

Javert was standing at the window. His face was pale and his entire frame was trembling. In his hand, he held a pistol with a single silver bullet: it would not kill a vampire, but it would disable him.

“Javert?” 

“Get out of here, Valjean.” The man raised the gun towards his head with a shaking hand. 

“What are you doing?” Madeleine took a step toward the inspector, but he held up a hand in warning. 

“I already consider myself your prisoner.”

“It is not so simple anymore, Valjean." Javert let his hand drop.

Valjean moved to stand beside him. He placed a hand on Javert’s arm, just a light pressure meant to reassure, but he removed it when the man flinched. 

Valjean let his hand drop to his side. “When I see the way you draw back from me, I truly regret what I am.” 

“I hate your kind; yet you saved my life, and I cannot hate you anymore than I can kill you or return you to prison.”

Slowly, Valjean moved forward inch by inch until he slapped the gun from Javert’s hand and seized the tormented man, holding him against his chest and pinning both arms to his sides in a grip as unyielding as iron. 

Javert struggled at first and then gave up and tried to turn his head to face Madeleine.

“Release me, Valjean.” 

“Only if you promise not to harm yourself.” 

“Why should you care about me? You’d be better off if I’m dead.”

“You are never out of my thoughts. When I am with you, I feel like a man again.” Valjean confessed. “I know you will never feel the same and it pains me.” 

Javert’s voice broke. “I should have raised an axe against you. Instead, I want things that I should not and cannot want. Perhaps you have bewitched me.” 

Valjean ‘s skin burned at the implications of the quiet and intimate words. Javert was still fragile and could decide to retrieve the gun at any moment. He wanted press hi s lips to Javert’s in a fierce kiss and strip the uniform from his broad shoulders. Instead, Valjean rested his head on Javert’s shoulder and allowed his arms to relax and trail down Javert’s arms, tracing the curves of his tense muscles. He released Javert whose breathing had quickened noticeably. 

Madeleine leaned forward and kissed him delicately on the lips. The kiss was more brotherly than sensual at first. The man’s eyes darted from place to place like those of a caged wolf seeking escape and he stiffened. After a moment, Javert clumsily responded and the kiss deepened. When it was over, Valjean’s eyes were full of wonder. 

Valjean held him at arms length. “You still want this even after you know what I am?” 

“ I have suspected for a long time.” He tangled his fingers in Valjean’s silver-speckled brown hair and pulled him in for another kiss. 

“Since the gargoyle incident?” Valjean asked when Javert broke the kiss. 

Javert’s hand rested on Valjean’s cheek. “Even before that. The first time our hands touched, I felt the chill of your skin and I knew what you were though I could not bring myself to believe it. The gargoyle incident just confirmed my suspicions.” 

“Ah.” 

“Now, please stop talking before I change my mind. This is..difficult for me.” Javert stared at his feet in silence. 

“If you have reservations, this can end right now.” Valjean cupped his chin and tilted it up so Javert had to meet his eyes. 

“I admit, I am..overwhelmed. I have never…” Javert’s voice trailed off leaving Valjean to guess his meaning. 

Valjean met his eyes, a curiously tender expression on his face and leaned forward to kiss Javert’s forehead. “Neither have I. You are sure this is what you want?” 

Javert turned away from him . “I dreamed about this…at least I think it was a dream. It was after I was injured.” 

“It was not a dream. I failed for a moment to control my darker instincts.” Madeleine went towards the door, suddenly tormented by guilt. “I should leave.” 

“No. I trust you with my life. “Javert grasped his cool hand. “And if you leave now, I will not forgive you. 

Valjean turned to face him and pulled him into his arms. He rested his head on Javert’s shoulder for a moment before kissing him again awkwardly but passionately. “We will have to learn together.” 

It was the shy, tender lovemaking of two innocents. While the call of Javert’s blood still sang within him, he was so intent on mapping every detail of his inspector’s skin and savoring each new sensation that the desire for blood was replaced by a different kind of hunger. Each tentative touch of hands and lips on skin was a wonder to both men. Valjean's hands found the ribbon holding Javert’s hair in its orderly queue and tugged gently, causing it to tumble free down his shoulders. Valjean ran his hands through the loose locks, sending shivers down Javert’s spine. Javert mirrored his touch and swept Valjean’s unruly hair to the side. His touch was perhaps a bit too rough, but nevertheless eager and affectionate. 

There were awkward moments where neither seemed to know how to proceed, but Valjean had patience enough for both of them. He placed a hand over Javert’s heart, prompting Javert to say, “I remember this.” 

Javert lifted his hand and kissed the palm, causing Valjean to close his eyes as Javert kissed a trail down his wrist. Madeleine placed kisses along Javert’s jaw line and on his earlobe. Javert shivered as his lips neared his neck and went still.  
Madeleine stepped back as if wounded. 

“I apologize. It was merely a reflex.” Javert clasped his shoulder. 

“You know I would never harm you or do anything you do not wish me to do.” 

“I know.” Javert reached up to unbuckle the leather stock--an ultimate show of trust. He removed it and set it aside, standing with his throat bared. 

Madeleine removed his own coat and waistcoat and stood in his shirtsleeves and trousers. He sat down on the bed to remove his boots. Javert sat beside him and removed his own boots and stockings. He realized dimly that he was still wearing his own greatcoat and stood again to slip out of it. He sat down again on the bed and Madeleine leaned against his shoulder, content for the moment just to feel the warm, solid body next to his own. He stood up abruptly and retrieved two bed warmers from the fireplace and tucked them under the covers.

“My skin is cold and this will keep you warm,” he offered. 

“I don’t mind.” Javert replied. The single element of discomfort helped mitigate the tenderness of caresses that both soothed and scalded his soul. 

“Should we lie down?” Valjean asked. 

Javert lay back on the large bed, his treacherous heart pounding from anxiety as well as arousal. Valjean stretched out over him and propped himself up on his forearms as he leaned down to kiss Javert again. Hhe kissed a path down to the first button of Javert’s shirt. As his hands began to work on the first button, he thought he saw a trace of fear enter the man’s eyes and rolled to his side so they might face each other.

“What’s wrong?” 

“There are scars..I have forgotten how many. It is a hazard of being a hunter.” 

“I have seen them before when I tended to your wounds and they do not bother me. I was marked once just like you.” 

Javert nodded and soon, Valjean’s cool fingertips were stroking the contours of his leanly muscled chest and abdomen. Javert’s back arched as Valjean kissed along his pectoral muscles, taking a nipple into his mouth to tease with his tongue and suckle lightly. He thought he would go mad when Valjean kissed his way to the other side and repeated the act that brought him such blinding pleasure. Madeleine dipped his head and softly kissed the circular scar on his ribcage, then moved to run his tongue along the line left by a knife wound. He kissed his way to the recent scars from the gargoyle attack that were still pink and slick and kissed them as well. 

“Your scars make you human. They tell a story of your strength and the trials you have survived.”

His hands rested for a moment on the front of Madeleine’s shirt and his hands trembled a little. Valjean took Javert’s hands and placed them over his own and together they unbuttoned and removed Madeleine’s shirt. Shirt cast aside, Javert begin to explore the muscular expanse of Valjean’s chest, tracing circles in the nest of grey hair on his chest and sliding over the pectorals. He felt a nipple harden under his touch and rubbed it in a circular motion, causing Valjean to gasp. 

Javert ‘s hand suddenly paused and his expression was puzzled. “Your scars..The brand….they’re gone.” 

“When I turned, they disappeared.” 

Valjean’s arms encircled Javert’s waist, drawing him closer. The motion brought his thigh in contact with Javert’s groin, brushing his growing arousal. Javert moaned at the contact; first drawing away from the intense sensation, and then bucking his hips to prolong the pleasure. Madeleine adjusted his position so each movement brought his pelvis in contact with Javert’s and they begin to rock into each other, in a clumsy and instinctual motion that provided blissful friction. Madeleine’s arousal was painful, but he’d wanted this with Javert for so long and he was determined now to make it last as long as possible. He longed to touch every inch of Javert and allowed his hands to drift to Javert’s waist and below as he leaned in to kiss his earlobe, nipping lightly. His hands found Javert’s arousal and palmed him through his trousers causing the man to groan and buck against him. He slid his hands under the waistband of his trousers. As his hands began to work on the buttons, Javert stilled. His eyes were closed. 

“What’s the matter?” Madeleine asked. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No.” Javert opened his eyes and raised his hips so Madeleine could slide the trousers from his hips. Madeleine returned to ravaging his mouth. At Javert’s urging to “get on with it,” Madeleine removed his drawers, exposing him to the cold air. His hand skimmed Javert’s inner thighs, resting there a moment before he dared to stroke his arousal lightly from the base to the tip. Javert’s breath came in rapid pants. Encouraged, Madeleine grasped his length more firmly and began to slide his hand up and down, gradually increasing the pressure and speed in response to Javert’s moans. His thumb brushed the sensitive tip, coated with moisture and he slicked the entire length. He braced his hands on either side of Javert’s hips, causing Javert to whimper at the sudden loss of contact. 

“What are you?...” Javert’s words were silenced when he felt Madeleine kissing his lower abdomen and moving lower to lick at his inner thighs. His world exploded into a haze of pleasure when he felt the first tentative brush of Valjean’s lips on his shaft. Valjean kissed up and down his length. When he reached the tip, his tongue swirled in slow circles before Valjean took the tip into his mouth and began to suck lightly, tasting the warm, salty skin. Javert’s hands tangled in Valjean's hair. Madeleine glanced up to see his inspector’s head thrown back in ecstasy. The power he had in that moment to make his Inspector lose control thrilled him. He licked one last time from the tip to the base and took a little more in his mouth, feeling the weight and heat of the smooth, slick skin as he moved his mouth up and down the length.  
Javert reluctantly stopped him with a hand on his head. Although Valjean's skin was cold, his mouth was deliciously warm, and his tongue although unpracticed in the act was agile. 

“Is this..Not pleasing to you?” Madeleine asked. 

“Oh, God ..Yes! It is..wonderful,” Javert gasped between ragged breaths, “But…I will not last long enough to touch you."

Valjean‘s eyes were hazy with desire. Javert ‘s hand brushed the front of his trousers lightly at first, then his hand cupped Madeleine’s arousal and squeezed lightly, drawing a guttural noise half moan and half whimper from Madeleine’s throat. Together, they worked on the fastenings of his trousers and Madeleine was soon divested of them and his undergarment, removing the last barrier between them. Javert hesitated for a moment and Madeleine shifted position to his side, brushing a lock of Javert’s hair from his eyes tenderly. “We need not do anything more if you are reluctant.” 

“No. I want very much to touch you, but I am…unsure how.” 

“You have never sought pleasure alone..?” 

“No. I considered it self-indulgent and immoral to seek pleasure in that way.” 

Madeleine bent low and kissed him softly and tenderly on the lips. He rolled to his back and took Javert’s hand in his own. He joined both their hands and began to ease Javert’s hand up and down his length, gradually helping him to increase speed and pressure before taking his own hand away. “Yes—like this.” 

Madeleine’s body trembled and his hand pressed to Javert’s stopping it. 

“Is it..not good?” Javert’s brow wrinkled worriedly and his cheeks flushed in shame. 

“It is too good . Before I am spent completely, I would feel your skin against mine once more.” 

“You should let me repay..what you did for me.” 

“I fear I will not last that long. There will be time enough for that later. “ Madeleine rolled so they were lying side by side once more and pulled Javert close. His hands encircled his waist and stroked the man’s muscular back, traversing the hollows beside his spine and the mounds of his firm buttocks. He shifted position so Javert was straddling him and placed his hands by the hollows near his hipbones as he bucked up against Javert, encouraging him to rock his hips, and he allowed his hands to wander over the planes of Javert’s chest and down to the muscles of his abdomen. Each time their arousals met, the blessed friction sent waves of ecstasy that grew in intensity. Javert stretched him self out so he was lying atop Madeleine and they begin to thrust their hips with renewed urgency. 

Suddenly, Javert cried out as his body was rocked by tremors like tiny earthquakes and he felt his release warm between their bellies. Valjean’s breath hitched and he arched his back, groaning as he too found release a moment later. Once the haze of pleasure subsided, Valjean rose and retrieved a washbasin and cloths. He cleaned both of them and then settled back in bed beside Javert. They did not speak but lay entwined in each other, caresses speaking more than words ever could. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Madeleine awoke to sunlight streaming through the window . He had slept for the first time in ages and he was warm. He was pressed against the warmth of Javert’s body and his arm was draped across the man’s chest. Javert’s hair was loose on the pillows and his brow, usually furrowed and serious, was relaxed. Madeleine was reluctant to move and spent a few moments absolutely still just listening to Javert’s quiet, regular breathing and the comforting sound of his heartbeat. He placed the softest of kisses on his shoulder. Javert’s eyelids fluttered open and he jerked suddenly in terror, rolling away from Madeleine. 

“You are safe, Javert,” Madeleine soothed as he brushed a strand of hair out of the man’s eyes. 

Javert relaxed and sat up, searching the floor for the pieces of his uniform. “ I’m supposed to be on patrol.” 

“Can’t you stay a while? I can make us some breakfast.” 

Javert averted his eyes and began to get dressed. He seemed ashamed and dressed quickly with his back toward Madeleine. “No. Thank you. It would not due for me to be late.” His tone was distant. 

“May I see you tonight?” Madeleine asked. 

“Perhaps.” Javert pulled on his boots and began to tie his hair back into a queue. “My work will keep me quite busy.” 

Madeleine called out to him, but Javert’s hand was already on the door. He slumped back and stared at the ceiling, wounded and guilty. He didn’t regret what they had done. He knew the sin would be forgiven and it had been a rapturously beautiful sin. He wondered if Javert regretted what they’d done—if he’d felt pressured in any way. That thought was repulsive to Madeleine. He sighed and pulled the covers back, resolving to speak to Javert about it later.  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Javert sat in his office at the end of his shift trying to finish his report for the fourth time in a row. He crumpled the paper and cast it into the stove. He knew he shouldn’t have left so abruptly that morning; he hated the wounded look in Madeleine’s eyes. How could he explain that what they shared was like offering a starving man a feast. For a man who has lived without love and without the human touch so long, to finally receive it and give it in return was both restoring and shattering. 

He had given himself willingly with no thoughts of consequences. And he had given himself to a vampire. It was fortunate that he survived the encounter. 

He avoided Madeleine’s office over the next few days and he tried to gather information about the vampire who made Andre Vallee his servant. 

He slipped beneath the sheets late one night and tried to sleep listening to the rain. Each raindrop pounded in his ears like an accusation. Finally, he got dressed and went out into the storm.

Madeleine opened his door to see Inspector Javert standing in front of him soaking wet with his long hair plastered to his head. 

“Javert—it’s freezing! Come in out of the cold.” The man seemed not to comprehend his words. Madeleine removed his coat and led him to a kitchen chair. He wrapped a blanket around the man’s shoulders. 

“What brought you out on a night like this?” 

Javert did not answer. Madeleine went into another room and did not return for some time. When he did, he held a bottle of wine and two glasses. Javert was still sitting motionless, staring at the table. He poured two glasses and handed one to Javert, who took it without comment.

“When you left, I feared you would not return, Inspector.” Madeleine sipped the wine and studied Javert.

When Madeleine reached out and covered Javert's hand with his own, Javert whispered. “I admit, I did not expect to."

The two men sipped the wine in silence for a few moments. 

"Is the wine to your liking?" 

"I indulge so rarely...but it is pleasant enough." 

"You are here now and that is all that matters."

Madeleine leaned in and kissed him gently on the brow. "I will prepare the guest room so you can rest. You're working too hard."

"Sleep does not come easily to a hunter." 

"Then, perhaps a hot bath. You need to get out of your wet clothes and get warm. I was preparing a bath for myself when you arrived.

Madeleine stood and gestured for Javert to follow. Mechanically, Javert stood and allowed himself to be led into the back of the house where a tub of steaming water waited.

Javert averted his eyes and began to remove his cravat. Madeleine turned to leave, but Javert stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

“The tub is very large…..” 

Madeleine raised an eyebrow in response. “Yes?” 

The stoic man’s cheeks flushed and he appeared flustered. He was astonished at the indecency of his own awkward request. 

“Perhaps you would join me?” 

Both men were exhausted and their kisses were slow and soft as they slipped out of their clothes and into the hot water. Javert felt the return of warmth to his numb limbs, and with the heat of the water masking his cold skin, Madeleine could pretend he was human. He sighed in contentment as he immersed himself in the hot water, feeling the tension in his limbs ease. Javert climbed in after and since they were both large men, it took some arranging for them both to find a comfortable position. Javert’s back rested against Valjean’s chest and their legs tangled lazily in the water as they simply enjoyed the sensation of skin touching skin as they held each other and washed the pain away. 

Afterward, they slept peacefully in Valjean’s bed and did not sleep separately again.


	5. An End and a Beginning

It had been nearly a week since Javert and the mayor had destroyed the undead servant. No trace of a vampire had been found. Then, the whores by the docks began to go missing. At first, Javert suspected one of the town dandies, but then two had been found dead with the blood drained from their bodies. Madeleine received a threatening letter advising him to enter a warehouse near the docks alone and unarmed. They decided that Javert would accompany him at a safe distance and wait until the right moment to come to his aid. Madeleine still hoped to find a peaceful resolution to the situation, while Javert maintained that there was no way to reason with a murderer. Javert peered through a dusty window while Madeleine slowly went inside. 

The bodies of two lifeless women were piled near the door. The telltale punctures made by vampire fangs marked their necks. It was dimly lit inside the warehouse. A few torches burned on the white-washed walls. 

“Good—you are here at last, my friend.” 

Valjean jerked upon hearing the familiar voice with its strange honeyed tones. 

“Marcus? That’s impossible. You were sentenced to death.” 

The man lifted his head and his golden eyes caught the light. His face was still ageless, but the eyes had the haunted look of one who has lived too long and seen too much. He rose and walked closer to Madeleine. “I escaped. I had a last minute change of heart.” 

“Why did you come here?” 

Marcus laughed humorlessly. “Isn’t it obvious. I came back for you.” 

“You killed these innocent women.” 

“They were hardly innocent.” Marcus took a step forward and Valjean held his ground. 

“What about what you did to Andre Vallee?” Marcus began to pace the room. 

“Vallee was simply an empty shell, a tool. He no longer had any use for his body. Actually, I am quite angry at you for destroying him.” Marcus wagged a long finger. “We cannot kill our own kind, but I intend to punish you for depriving me of my servant..and my pureblood.” 

Marcus pressed the long nail of his index finger into Valjean’s chest. Valjean moved to grip his wrist and lower the hand, but Marcus was too strong. It was like a battle between iron and steel. The slight pressure of Marcus’ nail caused Madeleine’s veins to feel like acid flowed within them and he sank to his knees. It was like going through the pain of being turned anew. He suppressed his pain as long as he could and then, he screamed until he was hoarse. 

Javert heard his lover’s screams and rushed to his aid. He had a large axe in his arms and snuck silently behind the creature, striking off its arm. No blood flowed from the wound. It howled in pain, which allowed a moment for Madeleine to recover. 

Marcus’ eyes glowed red and his voice became terrible. “You will die for that, human, but first, you will suffer.”

It struck Javert with its uninjured arm and the force was like a girder driving into him. Javert hit the ground and rolled to his feet and he and Madeleine surrounded the beast on two sides. Madeleine landed blows to its head with its large fists and Javert managed to drive the axe handle into its midsection. Even with one arm, the creature was fast and tireless. Madeleine managed to pin it down for a moment, yet, before Javert could strike it with the axe, it had thrown Madeleine off and advanced toward him. Javert moved aside, just missing a strike from the vampire’s elbow aimed for his temple. He was not fast enough to avoid a blow to the chest that sent him into the far wall. There was a horrible crack, followed by searing pain and Javert slid to the ground motionless. 

“Nooo!” Madeleine roared. 

“Would you cry for a human? How you disappoint me.” Marcus shook his head. “I should feed on him before he dies.” 

“You will not touch him.” Madeleine’s voice was broken yet terrifying. 

Madeleine grabbed Marcus by the throat and began to squeeze. 

“You would kill your own kind? I gave you life.” 

Madeleine shook his head sadly. “No, Marcus—you turned me. It was God who gave me life. May he forgive me now.” 

Madeleine’s grip tightened and then he abruptly released the creature. Marcus cowered , crawling away from him. 

“I will let you leave alive, but you must promise never to return.” 

“Where will I go?” 

“To the most remote places where you cannot harm another living soul. If you ever return, then I will be forced to kill you.” 

He advanced toward Marcus who had scrambled to his knees. He crouched beside the man who still gasped for breath. “Do you swear never to return?” 

“Yes—I swear it.” 

Valjean hauled him to his feet and shoved him toward the door. “Now—go.” 

Marcus straightened his shoulders and walked away, glancing back at Valjean scornfully. Once he was sure Marcus was far away, he raced to Javert’s side. Javert lay deathly still and pale with his arms and legs twisted at unnatural angles. His neck was swollen and bruised and a trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, evidence of internal bleeding. His breathing was shallow, but his eyes focused on Valjean and he attempted to speak. His voice was barely more than a whisper. 

“Is it…over?” 

Valjean knelt by Javert. He was afraid to touch his broken body, but he grasped his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “Yes. It’s over.”

Javert groaned in pain and Madeleine stroked his hair and wiped the blood from his face. “Shh…I’m here.” 

“I can’t move my legs. My back …broken.” Javert’s eyes held the fear of an ensnared beast. 

Valjean wept openly. “I don’t know how to heal you.” He looked up to the heavens and whispered, ”Please, don’t let him die.” 

There was a pained smile on Javert’s face. “There’s nothing to be done.” 

“No!” Valjean grasped Javert’s shirt and laid his head on his chest, sobbing into the coarse fabric. The beating of Javert’s heart was growing weaker as his life ebbed away. 

When Javert spoke again, his voice was even softer. “I …always..imagined I would die..alone.” 

“I can turn you. We would have an eternity together.” Madeleine’s voice was desperate, pleading.

“No. Grant me the choice you did not have. Grant me a clean death.” Javert was wracked by a spasm of pain and let out a choked cry. 

“Please, let me place you into a trance. It will stop the pain.” 

Javert nodded almost imperceptibly.

Madeleine bent down, placed his head over his heart until the two distinct sounds of their heartbeats became one. Javert’s eyes fluttered closed and his breathing slowed. For a moment, Madeleine thought he was dead. He bowed his head to pray as he waited for his lover to die and leave him to face an eternity alone.


	6. Awakening

Javert’s eyes snapped open. He was alive. He remembered the warehouse, being thrown into a wall, blinding pain..  
He remembered feeling feverish and tremendous pain as if his blood was boiling. He should be dead, but he was in Valjean's bed and the horrible pain was gone. He could hear everything. He could see the very fibers of cotton that made up the sheet. At first, he wondered if he was drugged. He sat up and found that he could move all of his limbs. His body felt strong; his skin felt hypersensitive. He stood and looked down at himself. He still wore his trousers, but his chest was bare and he saw that his skin was paler and firmer and every scar from every injury he’d ever sustained was gone. 

Valjean, who had been praying in the corner, raced to him and enfolded him in a crushing embrace. “I thought it was too late when you did not wake up.”

Javert shoved him away, but unused to his new strength, he inadvertently sent Valjean into the wall. 

“What have you done to me?” he roared. 

“It was the only way to save you.” 

“You have damned me!” Javert crossed the room and grasped Madeleine’s cravat. His teeth were bared and his fangs were visible. 

“I’m sorry, Javert. I couldn’t bear to live without you.” 

“I was ready to die. It was my right!” 

He released Madeleine and sank to the floor, sobbing and broken. Madeleine kneeled beside him. “I was selfish. I swore I would never turn anyone. I am no better than Marcus.” 

Javert responded bitterly, “Leave me.” 

“I did it because I love you…” 

“Spare me your excuses.” 

Madeleine quietly left him and shut the door. Javert did not move from the floor for many hours. Although the last place he wanted to stay was in Valjean’s home, he was too afraid to leave the room. The cravings for blood were starting and he was unsure he could stop himself from harming the innocent.

Valjean sat at the kitchen table, head in hands, clutching a rosary. He recalled watching Javert undergo the same painful process of turning that he’d gone through: the horrible pain of his injuries healing and his old blood being replaced by vampire blood, the raving, and the fever dreams. 

“I cannot forgive you, but I understand why.” Javert moved to stand in front of Valjean whose tears still flowed freely. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” 

“I don’t know.” Javert replied honestly. “How can I forgive you when I cannot forgive myself?” 

Valjean placed a hand on his shoulder that Javert roughly pushed away. “You have done nothing wrong, Javert.” 

“I have fallen back to the gutter I was born in, Valjean. A hunter seduced into sordid acts with a vampire.” An involuntary spasm wracked Javert’s frame, an icy, silent laugh. 

“Acts of love are never sordid, Javert.” 

“Perhaps it was love…or perhaps it was just bloodlust. Tell me, Valjean were you disappointed when you tasted my blood? Was it vile and contaminated from my parent’s sins? The blood of a child of criminals is anything but pure.” 

“Javert, please…” 

“You have robbed me of my dignity, my honor, and my trade and cursed me to walk the earth a monster.”

“You are not a monster.” 

“I am. Every beat of my wretched heart betrays what I am. Already, I feel the vile hunger and I hate it.” He dug his fingernails into his palm and held his breath, willing himself to ignore the terrible, hunger that made his head pound and his skin burn. 

“You must feed. If you do not, you will die in a matter of days. I have a heard of cattle and sheep outside of town. You must accompany me before dawn and I will teach you.”

Javert did not reply for several moments. His gaze was directed toward the window. “How do you stand it, Valjean? I can feel them out there—the blood pulsing in their veins calling to me.” 

“In time, you will learn to suppress the urges just as I have. We must hurry.” 

Reluctantly, Javert gave in to his hunger and agreed to accompany Valjean. Although the thought sickened him, he fed on the animal blood rather than risk harming a human. After, he conceded that it had not been as unpleasant as he expected. He would not touch Valjean, yet he did not leave as he was still torn between the intense feelings of betrayal and the love that he still harbored buried beneath his anger. 

He wanted to return to his apartment, but he was struck with visions of his fangs piercing the necks of men and women he encountered. He settled on the couch intending to sleep, and after tossing and turning for several hours, he found that he was not fatigued. He threw the blanket off his legs and walked into the parlor. 

He turned to leave when he saw Valjean crouched before the fireplace, clutching a rosary and whispering prayers for forgiveness, but Valjean’s hearing was too sensitive to miss his quiet tread. He looked up at Javert with an expression so anguished that Javert, who had been about to deride him again, held his tongue and sat on the floor across from Valjean. 

“I cannot sleep and I have no desire to be alone with my thoughts.” 

They stared into the fire without speaking. Finally, after a few minutes, Valjean spoke softly. “You could still serve as inspector..and a hunter if you wished.” 

“What?! Are you mad, Valjean? What do you think the townspeople will do if they find out that I’m a vampire?” 

“I have hidden my identity since I was turned. You were the first to discover my secret.” 

“Concealing the truth is not much better than lying.” Javert shook his head and Valjean stared at the ground, ashamed for a moment, then he met Javert’s gaze and squarely and continued.

“There are certain abilities we possess that would make you a better inspector and hunter once you learn to use them. We do not tire as easily. We are faster and stronger. When we are injured, we heal easily. Our senses are more highly attuned, and we can detect humans and read their emotions by following the scent of their blood. “ 

Javert considered the rare times he had been unable to catch a criminal who was faster or stronger than him or tired chasing after a man on foot. To use his unnatural abilities still seemed like subterfuge, but it seemed less ignoble to use them in service of the law. 

“Suppose I agree to stay. We cannot stay here forever. Eventually, the town will notice that the mayor and the Inspector have not aged.” 

“Yes, I had considered that. “

“What would you have us do, Valjean?” 

Valjean took a deep breath. “I would have us live our lives as if we were mortal, taking nothing for granted and considering each day a gift. “ 

“Those are pretty sentiments, but what will happen when tomorrow comes.” 

“I informed the station that you are ill. When you are ready, you will return to duty.” 

Javert nodded and they sat in silence for a time. 

“Why don’t you come to bed? The couch is uncomfortable.” 

Javert’s glared at Valjean in response. 

“Or…I will make up the guestroom so you might rest comfortably.” 

“I am not tired.” 

“Then, there is something I would show you if you permit me.” 

“Fine. I will play your game, Valjean as I currently have an abundance of time.” 

Valjean flushed and stood, offering his hand to the inspector. Javert looked at it then took it roughly and stood up, following Valjean into the bedroom. 

Valjean pulled him over to the mirror and stood behind him. Javert could not bring himself to look at his reflection. Valjean removed the white shirt he wore so both men stood bare-chested in front of the glass. 

“I don’t understand. What are you playing at?" Javert asked. 

Valjean tilted Javert’s chin up so he was forced to look at their reflections in the mirror. “Look. What do you see?” 

“I see two fools…” 

Valjean placed his hands on Javert’s shoulders. “Do you see monsters or men?” 

“I..I don’t know.” 

Valjean placed delicate kisses on his forehead, earlobe, and neck; the pressure just enough to be real and not an illusion. At first the man tensed in response, but as Valjean’s lips brushed a particularly sensitive spot, all thoughts of anger and resentment were clouded by desire and he gasped, his back arching at the contact. 

“I see men," Valjean replied. "One is quite enchanting.” 

One of Valjean’s hands encircled his chest and the other worked on the braces of his trousers, and it wasn’t long before clothes were discarded and both of them stood naked in front of the mirror. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

In the morning, they lay with limbs tangled and a sheen of sweat on their skin. Their bodies had not tired from their lovemaking and only the approaching dawn forced them apart. Javert turned so he faced Valjean and regarded him with irritation . 

“You were holding back.” 

Valjean brushed a section of hair out of the man’s eyes. “Yes.” 

“Why did it feel different before?” 

“Our skin is stronger and more sensitive. Sensations are more intense.” 

“That is quite an understatement.” 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Javert dressed in his uniform and returned to work. Valjean had spoken the truth about his abilities. He now had to slow his pace when pursuing criminals to avoid arousing the suspicions of his fellow officers . He developed a headache from his sensitive hearing and vowed to ask Valjean how to suppress it. Discretion had protected them both from the scrutiny of the town gossips, although Javert suspected that the mayor’s concierge was beginning to suspect something. 

As they grew more familiar with each other’s bodies and desires, their passion became more intense and their lovemaking while still tender could no longer be considered tentative. 

Valjean was still guilt-ridden and took every opportunity to clasp his hand or embrace him and beg for forgiveness that Javert was not yet ready to give. He lived with a constant fear that Javert would leave—a fear that was not entirely unfounded. 

Eventually, Valjean found the trunk concealed in the back of the closet and asked, “Are you leaving?” 

Javert’s looked into Valjean’s haunted, red-rimmed eyes, and he said in an even tone, “I have considered it.” 

Valjean’s shoulders sagged and he sighed deeply. “I understand.” 

Javert’s eyes darted from the trunk to Valjean who smiled sadly, the smile of a man about to mount the scaffold. Javert removed his hat and set it back on his head. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms only to uncross them a moment later. “That does not mean I have decided to leave. Fate has bound us.” 

“Then , you will stay?” 

The last doubts vanquished from his mind, Javert stepped forward and embraced his lover. 

“I will stay forever.” 

End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Ravenna for her wonderful Beta-reading and helping me with the difficult rewriting/editing process!  
> Thank you to anyone who read this!   
> This is my first attempt writing crossover AU fic or anything with nsfw content so please tell me what you liked or didn't like.


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